Chapter 22: the city that wouldn't listen

The city didn’t sleep.

It never did.

Derek noticed that after a while—how the lights stayed on even when people should’ve been dreaming, how sirens became background noise instead of alarms. A city like this didn’t rest. It waited.

He stood on the roof of a parking structure, wind tugging at his jacket, eyes fixed on the grid of streets below. Somewhere in that maze, Lady Venom was moving pieces. Somewhere else, people were about to get hurt.

And no one was listening.

Derek tapped his earpiece.

“Analyst. Status.”

Static. Then a voice.

“I’m pulling data from the device you recovered. It’s… layered. Military-grade encryption wrapped in civilian infrastructure.”

Derek exhaled slowly. “So it’s bad.”

“It’s worse than bad,” the analyst said. “This isn’t just a network. It’s a relay system. Whoever built this wanted redundancy. If one node falls, another activates.”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “Bombs.”

A pause.

“Yes.”

Derek closed his eyes for half a second. Just half. Long enough to feel the weight settle in his chest.

“Locations?” he asked.

“I’ve identified three probable zones. Financial district. Old transit hub. And—”

“—a residential block,” Derek finished.

“…Yes.”

“Send me everything.”

The data hit his phone in bursts—maps, heat signatures, civilian density estimates. Derek scrolled fast, brain moving faster. Timers. Patterns. Human behavior modeled into math.

“They’re not random,” he muttered. “She wants eyes. Panic. Confusion.”

Lady Venom didn’t just want destruction.

She wanted a message.

Derek jumped from the roof, landing hard but clean, rolling into motion. He moved through the streets like he belonged to them, hood low, eyes sharp.

At the first location—the transit hub—he tried the responsible thing.

He flagged down a patrol car.

The officer rolled the window down halfway. “You lost, kid?”

“There’s an explosive device inside the hub,” Derek said calmly. “Lower east entrance. Utility corridor. You need to evacuate. Now.”

The officer stared at him.

“…You serious?”

“Yes.”

“You got proof?”

Derek held up his phone. “Encrypted schematics, signal pings, and—”

The officer laughed. Actually laughed.

“Kid, we get nutjobs every week. Move along before you get yourself arrested.”

Derek’s expression didn’t change.

“It goes off in twelve minutes.”

The officer’s smile faded slightly. “And how would you know that?”

“Because I didn’t plant it,” Derek said. “But I know who did.”

That earned him a hard stare.

“Step away from the vehicle.”

Derek stepped back. Slowly. Calculated.

The patrol car drove off.

Derek whispered, “Unbelievable.”

He ran.

Inside the hub, people rushed past him—commuters, tourists, vendors shouting. Life happening right on top of a countdown.

He slid behind a maintenance door, popped the lock, and dropped into the corridor. The device was there. Compact. Elegant. Cruel.

“Analyst,” he said, kneeling. “I’m at Node One.”

“I see you.”

“Can I disarm it?”

A pause that felt too long.

“…Yes. But if you do, Node Two activates early.”

Derek froze. “She thought of that.”

“She always does,” the analyst said quietly.

Derek stood. Backed away from the device.

“How long until detonation?”

“Six minutes.”

Derek clenched his fists. “Start recording.”

“What?”

“Everything. Time stamps. Audio. I want proof I tried.”

He sprinted back into the crowd.

“Everyone needs to leave!” he shouted. “There’s a bomb!”

People stared. Some laughed. Someone cursed at him.

A security guard grabbed his arm. “Hey! You can’t yell that—”

“It’s real!” Derek snapped, shaking free. “You need to clear this place!”

“You trying to get arrested?”

Derek looked around. At the kids. The tired workers. The woman on the phone complaining about her day.

“They’re going to die,” he said. “And you’re worried about protocol?”

The guard hesitated.

Then his radio crackled.

“—possible disturbance at the hub. Suspect male causing panic—”

That was it.

Derek turned and ran.

The explosion hit two minutes later.

The sound wasn’t cinematic.

It was wrong.

Heavy. Final.

Derek felt it in his bones even from blocks away. Windows shattered. Screams followed.

He stopped in the middle of the street.

“…Node Two?” he asked.

The analyst’s voice was tight. “Activated. You have eight minutes.”

Derek swallowed hard. “Where?”

“Residential block. South end.”

He ran again.

This time he didn’t try to warn the authorities.

He tried the people.

He knocked on doors.

“Get out. Now.”

Some listened. Most didn’t.

A man shouted at him. A woman slammed the door. Someone filmed him on their phone, muttering about clout chasers.

Derek stood in the hallway of the building, chest heaving.

“Please,” he said out loud, to no one. “Just leave.”

His phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

You warned them.

That’s the funny part.

Derek’s blood went cold.

“Lady Venom,” he whispered.

They don’t listen to geniuses. They listen to fear.

You and I? We see the truth.

“You’re killing them to prove a point.”

No. I’m exposing the system that already failed them.

“Stop this,” Derek said. “Fight me instead.”

Soon.

But first—you learn.

The timer hit zero.

The building shook.

Derek dove behind a concrete pillar as fire tore through the lower floors. The blast roared upward, swallowing screams, turning lives into statistics.

Silence followed.

Smoke. Sirens. Chaos.

Derek pushed himself up, coughing, eyes burning.

He stared at the wreckage.

“…They were right there,” he said hoarsely. “I told them.”

The analyst didn’t respond immediately.

When they did, their voice was broken.

“You tried.”

Derek laughed once. Short. Empty.

“That’s not enough.”

He looked up at the skyline.

Somewhere, Lady Venom was watching.

“Next time,” Derek said quietly, “I don’t ask.”

His phone buzzed again.

Lesson one complete.

See you soon, Cold Genius.

Derek crushed the phone in his hand.

The city burned behind him.

And for the first time, he understood the war he was really in.

To be continued…